


Christmas Is The Time To Say “I Love You”

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Duran Duran, Fashion Model RPF
Genre: Airports, Airports At Christmas, Alternate Universe, Babies, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Canon Compliant, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Crushes, December - Freeform, Denmark - Freeform, Dreams, Driving home for Christmas, Elves, F/M, Falling In Love, Father Christmas - Freeform, Ficlets, First Meetings, Future Fic, Love at First Sight, Luxury, Marriage, Meant To Be, Meet-Cute, My Ideas Because I Say So, Presents, Silent Night, Ski Chalets, Sneaking Around, Some Stories Are, The Waldorf, Twelve Days Of Christmas, Visiting Santa Claus, Winter, otp prompts, toy shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: My twelve days of Johnée Christmas ficlets. Meet-cutes, softness, love at first sight... this Christmas, theirWinter’s Taleis meant to be.
Relationships: Renée Simonsen/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Yasmin Le Bon
Comments: 19
Kudos: 20





	1. A Pumkinspice Warms His Heart

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate the twelve days of Christmas _before _December 25th, not after - now till Christmas Day, I’m posting a festive Johnée story here and festive moodboard to match on Tumblr every day.__
> 
> Enjoy a peak at my Johnée modern AU collection, though do look out for some canon compliant ficlets too! ♥️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A modern-ish day classic coffee shop AU, with twenty-two year old barista John.

A chime of the bell and John’s head cocked up. He had been polishing the table tops, cleaning the plates and trays; they were ever so close to closing. His breath was caught in his throat, catching sight of the figure as she entered. She was dressed snuggly, demure in a flowing oversized grey boxy coat; brushing her hands together as she tried to get warm. She shivered, catching his eye with a gleaming white smile.

Fumbling, he practically dropped the plates and mugs he was holding and dashed back to the till, watching as she glided up the aisle to meet him. She took a moment, removing her knit beanie and tucking it under her arm; as she studied the menus above his head. He couldn’t help but gawk. She was beautiful, stunning, there was a soft light radiating from her: he was sure of it. Her smile was striking, there were sapphires glistening in her eyes, gleaming blonde hair flowing down her back.

She was ethereal, he was mesmerised by her glow.

Coughing, “I’m sorry?” He shoved his glasses up on his face, surely he was shaking as her pinky lips dropped open to repeat her order.

Her laugh was beautiful. Rhythmic, grounding, absolutely magnificent. She trained her piercing cobalt gaze back onto his widened browns, raising a blonde brow.

“I said,” she giggled as John fumbled for a take out cup, “a _large_ pumpkin spice latte, please.”

“Good choice!” He beamed, cursing himself for the bolt of manic energy as she chuckled into her hand. “Anythin’ else, ma’am?”

She shook her head; golden fringe falling into his eyes. The gleam in those blues never fading.

“Two pounds, ninety-five, luv.”

“ _Luv?!_ ” She parroted, bringing her hand back up to cover her chuckle. John wondered if she was blushing, or was it the winter chill creeping onto her tan complexion, softening it.

Sliding a fiver across, John stumbled over counting the change. He handed her coins back to her, giggling awkwardly as their fingertips brushed; petrified that he would drop the change. He swept his brow as she placed the change in her purse, taking her gaze off of him for a split second. And then, John’s breath was caught in his throat; she span around and began a brisk strut to her chosen tiny table.

It was then that he realised, he hadn’t even asked her for her name. Inwardly he sulked, pulling the leavers and knobs of the coffee machine; adding the cream and dusting her latte with a little chocolate. Then, he breathed deeply, he was about ready to pass the drink over when he glanced back.

The coffee shop was deserted save for the two of them, they would be closing within moments. Though he had already placed the unsold biscuits, scones, chocolate treats and sandwiches away; John found himself heading back to today’s stash, a joyful smile spreading across his face.

Now standing with the drink in one hand and a small plate in the other, he began his walk over, boiling under the apron as her mystical gaze settled on him again. She appeared surprised, tilting her head, as she silently questioned what he was holding. A sweet, cinnamon treat to perfectly accompany her pumpkin spice.

“ _Two_ plastic forks?” She questioned, raising a sly brow.

Grumbling, “they always break, y’know.”

Shaking, he towered over her as he placed her drink cup down on the table. John’s mega-watt smile inked its way across his face, cheeks reddening as he presented her with her treat. On the house, of course.

“For you, ma’am. On me.” He stammered, sliding the cinnamon bun her way.

Her smile spread across her face, even wider than before, glancing down at the white frosted swirl. John could’ve sworn he had never seen a sight so magnificent, she was truly breathtaking.

“Really? Oh wow, thank you so much. That’s very kind of you…” she held a manicured hand out, beckoning him to tell her his name.

John flushed brighter, hands behind his back. He momentarily bit his bottom lip before letting his nervous giggle slip.

“It’s… John, you know?”

“Ah, well _now_ I know.” She thought it over, he studied his suede boots. “Thank you ever so much, _John_.”

“You’re very welcome…” he forced his gaze up, her eyes were locking back onto his. “I didn’t… y’know, ma’am… I forgot to ask you…”  
  


“My name.” She finished for him.

“To write on the coffee cup, yeah.”

“Why don’t you sit here with me and I’ll tell you, John.”

John followed her fingertips, motioning to the empty chair beside where he stood. Nodding, blushing, he sat himself down. She was dividing up the cinnamon bun, much to his surprise.

“Here, please.” She motioned to the fork, smiling bright.

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.” She nodded once, John knowing not to argue.

Blushing lightly, “thank you—”

“— _Renée._ ” She breathed. John couldn’t believe how perfect, how right, her name sounded. In her accent, ever so _right_.

Together they talked until closing time, laughing themselves stupid as John continued to blush and fluff up his very few sentences. He was simply enrapt in her striking beauty, her kind and warm heart. Maybe she could warm his cold own, bring some heat to his lonely winter chill.

The clock struck seven, both having overstayed their welcome. John wasn’t sure he could bid farewell to her just yet. He was ever so giddy when he caught sight of her waiting for him in the car park, to lock up and bring the shutters down, braving the bitter chill. And then, they were side by side, he offered a jacketed arm and she took it; with a merry giggle and spring in her step.

Renée was warming his cold heart, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a link to the aesthetic moodboard I made to accompany this fic: https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/637485537717108736/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	2. A Chance To Say ‘Hello’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A university dorm story ‘I can see you but you can’t see me through the window’ starring two first year students, at Birmingham City - May 2019.

_BCU Student Halls, May 2019_

Glancing up from his sketch pad, John breathed a sigh of frustration as his gaze fell to the screen. No matter what brush he used, how many keys he smashed and buttons he pressed: it wasn’t working. His design, capturing the branding on screen, just wasn’t working. Being tasked by designing a record sleeve and poster for his own fictitious band was something, something fun. Slamming his fists into the keyboard out of frustration wasn’t so fun.

The graphics student whirled his chair away from his desk. It was placed strategically by the window a mere three steps from his single bed, thankfully he always had light shining on him. And by that, he didn’t mean the sun nor the street lamps.

He sighed, happily, a small smile crossing his lips. “There she is, _hi_ beautiful.”

Almost directly opposite his dorm block lay another building. He could see into this girl’s dorm room, her blinds weren’t drawn very often. It wasn’t like John peered in on anything or perved on anything that he shouldn’t but, he swallowed thickly, she probably should’ve drawn those blinds more often.

She was stunning, whoever she was. Hair as golden as the sun, even from so many metres and cruel panes of glass and blocks of cement away. When she crept up onto the ledge, she had a small cactus plant on the windowsill that sometimes she would hold; John couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter. Drop all that he was holding, mind going blank, as she stared out of her window; arms folded and lips pursed.

Absentmindedly, he would sketch her. His sketchbooks and notepads were filled with musings of her, new angles and details he would catch the more that he saw her.

She was beautiful, that went without saying. Even when she stumbled back into her room in her shorts and baggy jumper, wet hair, towel around her neck. Or when she was waddling around the apartment in that penguin onesie he had seen her in last Christmas, she was still stunning. Ravishing, mesmerising.

Or even, John savoured the precious memory, when she was changing; when he would catch a small glimpse of her back as she clipped on her bra. As her blonde locks cascaded freely down, as her trim body caught the light… John was mesmerised, lost in his girl panic.

She never wore much make up, John was sure she didn’t need a drop of product to shine.

He hadn’t a clue of her name. What course she was on, what she was studying or any future career goals. He didn’t even know the name of the other girl she shared a place with: dark brown hair, olive skin, a true beauty. Though John did know, whilst battling his own design assignment, that her roommate was in a relationship. Her boyfriend spent lots of time there, her roommate snuggled up in his arms. He was blonde, a jock, would laugh a lot, tell the same poor jokes... John couldn’t lie, he was a little jealous as he got to silently watch one love blossom.

Though it hadn’t escaped his notice. The blonde girl he was seemingly enamoured with, also seemed a little jealous of her roommate and her boyfriend. How perfect they were, how _in love_ John was sure they really were.

She was alone, even if her dorm was full of friends, a little drinking party – not that she really partook in many festivities – she was alone.

Back to now, John found himself perching up on the windowsill, momentarily abandoning his graphic design assignment. _The record sleeve could be finished later,_ he thought, casting a glance to the red and black mess of a ‘woman’ inked on his computer screen. It was almost five PM and there she was, clutching her plant pot as she elegantly placed herself down on her window ledge. Her gleaming blue gaze roamed the campus below, the tables, walkways and flowers that separated their buildings. Before she broke away with what John knew to be a sigh, her shoulders slumping and her eyes closing.

Wait, no, John shuffled up closer to the window. She was crying.

John felt his heart drop. He scrambled up, now resting on his knees; wanting nothing more than to scream his way across, to find out which room was hers and run over there. Scoop her up in his arms, twirl her and hug her.

He just wanted the simple chance to say ‘hello.’

John’s face was painted in sorrow, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave her shivering figure be. No matter how far, how close, she may have been. He found himself raising a palm to the window, as if to wave, knowing that she had never looked this way. She had never seen him and probably would never look up.

He prayed and prayed for her to raise her head, to turn herself bodily that extra degree. He found himself calling, yelling, ever so close to banging on the window now as if that would be enough to divert her. To guide her, to make her come his way.

He only wanted that chance to say ‘hello.’

Without warning, he swallowed his gum, her bleary eyes were searching his dorm building. Her timid, red and raw gaze settled on the window: right on him. John was stunned, stunted, he couldn’t move. He was breathing rapid, heart thudding wild in his chest.

And then she was bringing a shaky hand up, slowly she was waving.

It took him a few tries but he got there, right hand raised to wave back. She was blinking back her tears and so was he, a wave was enough for now.

“ _Hi_ …” He breathed, the single sound dropping hot off of his lips.

A small smile inched across her face, her eyes were still teary but for John; she was smiling. That really meant something.

He would get that hug too, he longed for the day he would find her. Would find Renée, bring her here to his dorm room 7609, or meet in the canteen, share some chips and a coke…

He’d await for the day, he could finally say ‘ _hello_.’

***  
  


_BCU Canteen, December 2020_

Sliding his lunch tray in opposite Renée, John paused a moment to remove his mask before taking a seat. He treated her to fish and chips, extra vinegar and no salt; she raised her head up and tried to force a smile. John’s heart sank.

Her cheeks were flush, a small blotch of red coating them. She blinked a couple of times, trying to keep her tears at bay. Shyly, John leant a hand over the table for her to take. With a shaky breath, Renée placed her palm in his, nodding.

“Please, try and eat.”

She handed him her hand sanitiser, seemingly distracted. Renée picked at the chips, the waft of vinegar seeming to hit them both hard, stifling another small cry as she took her first bite.

John couldn’t help but feel awful. Helpless, useless. The Christmas holidays were right around the corner and with the current restrictions, airport closures and threats of not making it back… Of course Renée was disappointed, feeling incredibly let down. She couldn’t go home, John couldn’t stand to watch her so blue.

Renée managed to find an appetite for John’s sake, he never let her left palm slip from his right as he juggled his own food. Dropping a piece of fish made her giggle, making John’s own lips quirk up. He had truly missed her smile, her ray of light.

The university was sparsely decorated. The bulk of students couldn’t be here anyways. Being one of the very few left, one of the few who would have to remain put, John had decided to stay another week with her. Though they lived separately, were paying an arm and a leg for their own rooms; John had invited her across to keep her company. His heart hadn’t felt so full, when she had finally agreed.

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask you Ren,” John began, voice small and gaze falling to their interlocked hands. “Would you, you know, like too… Erm, well, stay with…” _me?_

John broke off, Renée was staring straight at him now she had abandoned her psychology textbook. A watery smile trying to cross her lips, eyes trying to glisten.

“Yes?” She prompted, chip in hand.

John tried again, shyness taking over. He forced himself to get through his revelation, desperate to keep his eyes on hers, needing to make her smile.  
  


“I spoke to my parents about your situation, y’know, and…” he paused, that smile was trying to grow. “Ren, listen. We’d love to have you _stay_ with us over Christmas, if you want too that is. You know you don’t of course but, uh, with all the money you’ve spent and so much time alone… isolating when we all get back…”

John’s rambling ended abruptly, there was a glint in her sapphire eyes. A glimmer John had truly missed.

“I would love too.” He could even hear the smile in her voice, own eyes dropping back to their interlocked fingertips. Renée clutched his palm, squeezed it as a thank you. John stuttered and stumbled, palm beginning to sweat. Renée didn’t seem to mind.

“So yeah, sure, I uh… we, me mum and dad are lookin’ forward to having you. We have a spare room and…”

“Johnny,” she giggled, drawing him from his daze. “I said yes, if _you_ will have _me_.”

The butterflies in his stomach were fluttering faster, John nodded enthusiastically. “I will, uh I do.”

She smiled softly, topaz eyes sparkling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you guessed what John was designing.
> 
> Link to moodboard (which only opens with a tumblr account!)  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/637577146075873280/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	3. Driving Home For Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A modern-ish AU, where John’s called out to help a poor woman stuck outside of Brum city.

John sped up the M42, growing closer to the brake down that needed his assistance. Well, he wanted to speed, little white flakes had started to fall and the gritters wouldn’t be out for hours.

Reaching the next junction, he noted a car in the low light, brake lights flashing - in need of help. John swerved to the left and bought the van to a halt, a couple of metres from the distressed woman and her car.

She noted his approach and slipped out of the vehicle, a vile chill immediately pelting her. John’s gaze landed on her form, how small and vulnerable she appeared now stuck at the blasted roadside. She was talking to him, a little flabbergasted, tongue tied… John surely didn’t hear a damn thing.

He nodded along, opening the bonnet. He frowned, a wisp of smoke spiralling free. John shook his head, opening several caps to check several fluids. He noted the woman beside him, looking in but not really understanding. As he spoke, he turned to face her, own red cheeks matching the glow bought about by the frost on her own cheeks. Her nose a deeper shade of red than when they had started.

She shivered again, John held out a slightly greasy hand. She appeared puzzled, blonde brows furrowed and head cocking to the side. John slipped off his own beanie, she eyed the strange growling mouth with the monstrous teeth. Though she slipped it on, thanking him.

He giggled, motioning to his van. John held out a hand, a little surprised when she took it. John guided her to his vehicle, helping her inside and turning on the heating. She visibly reacted, brushing her un-gloved hands together and blowing small breaths of warming air. Together they reached out, clinging to the warmth that spat out of John’s van. Now he was able to relax – knowing that she was okay, buried in the blanket he kept in the back for emergencies such as this. She motioned to the car radio, he nodded, she flicked it on.

**_Driving Home For Christmas, with a thousand memories…_ **

She smiled softly at that, gorgeous turquoise eyes slipping closed as she tipped her head back into the seat. John couldn’t help but watch, mesmerised by her beautiful lips as they parted. Adoring her little nose, her defined cheekbones alight with ruby glow.

John visibly startled, she was singing along. Ever so slightly, rocking in time to Chris Rea and his beat. John choked out a breathless laugh, not wanting to disturb and steal her spotlight.

“Driving in my car, I'm driving home for Christmas.” She sang, voice a true delight. “Driving home for Christmas, with a thousand memories.”

“It’ll take some time but,” John coughed out, as she turned to study him, delighted to hear him speak. Sing, somewhat. “ _You’ll_ get there, Renée.”

She chuckled, tossing her flowing blonde locks out of her blushing face as she did so. She held out a hand, motioning to John, before taking the track in her stride again.

“I take a look at the driver next to me.” He was in the drivers seat. “He’s just the same.”

John’s smile could’ve split his face in two. His flushing cheeks made his skin flame and heart skip with childish beats. She was ever so close, like an angel who was indeed _top to toe in tailbacks._ Now John’s got his feet on her _holy ground._

John stayed with her as this song fizzled out and another Christmas classic rang in. Renée squealed in delight, it was the McCartney’s simply having their wonderful Christmas time. As much as John just wanted to sit here and listen to her smooth voice flow along with the songs coming out of his grubby car radio; he suddenly was reminded that they were stuck on the M42 miles out of Birmingham city and her car needed his attention.

John excused himself, Renée’s sudden heavy look telling him that she too had somewhat forgotten what he was really there for. John slipped out of the van, being pelted by the heavier winds and falling snow; light slush forming at the roadside. John bought his arms up around him, rubbing over his high-visibility jacket in hopes of warmth. Stopping, John turned around to hunt her silhouette.

Renée smiled, cranking up the volume. He froze, before the face-splitting grin was back; warming up John’s cold heart. He trotted down to her car, disappearing from her sight as he again opened the bonnet. Surveying the scene; knowing exactly what was wrong. What would get Renée again driving home for Christmas, John would fix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/637667647936397312/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	4. All I Want For Christmas Is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A personal favourite, modern-ish AU involving a very special trip to Santa’s grotto with Tatjana!

“Unkie John,” he turned as he felt a small tug to his trouser leg, “how long till we can see Santa?”

John crouched down as Tatjana’s blinding smile swept across her little face. She was looking at him expectantly, she really wanted to know how long it would be till Nick came back. He was gift shopping for her, John was here to divert her, bring her to Santa’s grotto and the insane line that could take them another half an hour. Nick needed time to hunt her presents down.

“I’m not sure, sweetie. Soon, I promise!” He lied through his teeth.

Raising back to standing, the familiar synths and bass line of Wham’s _Last Christmas_ flowed through the shopping centre’s speakers, thoroughly setting the mood. And setting John off. Last Christmas he had given his heart to his old flame Janine, then the very next day the two had broken it off. This year, to save himself from tears, John had decided that there wasn’t any lady love _special_ enough to give his heart too.

Though he kept his distance, she still caught his eye.

Peering over the young and sickly in love couple in the line before him, John was sure he had caught sight of someone. Someone _special_. The elves, the volunteers, kept skipping up and down the queue to spread some holiday cheer. To take photos with the kids and assure them, they would indeed see Santa soon. John hadn’t seen this elf before, flicking his wrist he noted the turn of the hour: she must now be starting her shift.

Taking another step forward elicited a small squeal from Tatjana, together they were inching closer to the front of the line.

The elf strut straight down the line, small bells on her boots jingling. She was wearing a green striped tutu skirt and matching blouse. Her lips were bright red and she was full of smiles, blonde hair glistening under her cute little hat. She glided straight past him, he found himself lurching an arm out, as if to stop her.  
  


_This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special._

“Wait!”

She pivoted, hat slipping from her head. It fell to the floor, both knelt down to retrieve it. Hands brushing, ever so cliché. Ever so _perfect._

“I… I’m so, y’know, sorry…”

_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. But the very next day, you gave it away._

There they both were, kneeling to retrieve her hat. John’s eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open and no other words could come out. He was trapped, enrapt by her beauty. Her soft features, her glistening blue eyes that shimmered like crystals. The blush in her cheeks, the ruby in her pout.

_This year, to save me from tears. I’ll give it to someone special._

Together they raised to standing, John passing her the hat back. She secured it back on her head, still smiling softly. She wasn’t mad, John breathed a sigh of relief.

_Now I’ve found a real love, you’ll never fool me again._

The song began to trickle out. John inwardly cringed as Mariah Carey began screeching her way through, all she wants for Christmas is—

“ _You_.” She breathed, John somewhat startled by her word.

With a wink, she bid him a silent farewell. Waving in a small, flirtatious way, she pivoted on her heel and continued to sashay down the line. Spreading her Christmas cheer.

He was mesmerised, grinning like a loon. John bought his hand up; their were little sparks on the ends of his finger tips – right from where the lady elf had touched him.

“John?” It took him a moment to realise who was speaking to him. Nick had returned, they were much further in line than John. Who had practically fallen over the small rope keeping them in line, who was still gawking over the beautiful lady elf.

“Huh? Oh, oh Nick hey!” John shuffled back down the line, joining the happy Bates family up front.

“Who was that?”

“I don’t,” he paused, memories of her warm smile filling his mind. He shook his head, grinning softly. “I have no idea.”

Together the three eagerly waited for Tatjana to meet Santa Claus, creeping ever so close to the front.

“Next!” A male elf to John’s right called. “You can take this one: Miss Twinkle Toes!” He cackled, ever so animated.

“Thank you Mr Jolly Jingles!” She repeated, smile plastered to her face. Then, she turned to face them. “Are you ready sweetie, shall I hold your hand?”

“Yes please!” John babbled back, surprising himself.

He was face to face with his lady elf, she was smirking at him. “I meant this special young _lady_ but,” she rolled her eyes, “of course, _Sir_.”

John blushed and blushed deeply.

“All _you_ want for Christmas is _me,_ huh?” She cocked a brow, breaking off into another dashing smile. “We’ll see about that.”

John held out a hand, the happy elf latching on. Her bells jingled as together they skipped inside. Losing Tatjana immediately, who sprinted to Santa as fast as her little legs could carry her. John sent a loving look Nick’s way who understood, heading to his daughter to give Mr & Mrs Elf a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/637775338377740288/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	5. Cool Runnings Into You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John and Simon go skiing, an noughties AU. Loosely inspired by Simon’s early ‘85 accident.

Coming up to this Danish Ski Chalet seemed a wonderful idea… right up until his best mate Simon had fallen and probably broken something. He cocked his leg up and was limping around the place, now bound to staying in the hotel lobby whilst awaiting his mates to come back. John however, was really not taking too well to the cold either. So together, they huddled in tight in the small café, the steam from their hot chocolates framing their faces. John took a sip, coughing over the heat whilst Simon chuckled at him.

They were perched side by side, John slumping down to rest his tired head on Simon’s shoulder. He idly watched the waitress who was cleaning up, then another joined her.

“Woah.” Simon spoke.

“Whatd’ya mean woah?” John followed his finger, glassy gaze removing itself from Simon’s (possibly) broken foot to… “ _woah!_ ”

They were both watching as the blonde twirled around, she was seemingly lost in the tinkly music that filled the small café. She was dressed in thermals, a black turtleneck with a solemn silver chain. Fluffy trim boots, black leggings and gloves. The ones without the fingers covered.

John watched as she sat down. No, she wasn’t a waitress. She was a guest. He kept his gaze on her for a few moments more as she awaited her food and drink to arrive. Simon found himself eyeing up the waitress as she swept past them – _“what would Yasmin say?!” “She’d say to get at ‘er!” “Sure she would, Charley!”_ – to present the woman with a steaming bowl of tomato and basil soup. A pot of tea on side.

The woman tucked in, swirling her spoon about the bowl. Though now, John noted with a sigh, she didn’t look so joyful. Her face had fallen, slurping her soup, surely she was lonely.

The café was rife with people. Skiers, professionals and those here for a lark. She was the only one, after quickly scanning the room, she was the only one _alone._ Seemingly not enjoying her own company as much as John wished she could.

He turned back to Simon, reading his mind.

John rose to standing. Though he was a little nervous, he approached her with caution. She was a mere five steps from his table, no where near long enough for him to craft a grand speech in his mind. He fluffed his words, coughing slightly as he dropped his gaze. Tongue tied, he raised his gaze and jumped slightly: she was staring right at him.

Her eyes were a deep blue, John was sure there were galaxies swirling in them. She blinked, John noted the small smile trying to force its way across her plump pink lips. She shivered, taking a sip of her tea; causing John to break from his daydream.

“Erm… would you, y’know, would you like…” _to join us at our table?_ John groaned inwardly, he couldn’t get out a simple—

“Hey Miss!” Simon’s voice boomed from behind him. “Sorry for disrupting you two’s… yeah, do you want to sit with us?” He was still yelling. “I’d be quiet if I could get up to ask ya!”

Simon motioned to his foot, elevated on the chair opposite where he was sat. She followed, chuckling softly as John continued to tremble before her.

“I would love too.” Her voice, her slight accent, bought him out of his daze. John quirked his head back to face her, now she was standing before him. “Help me move my stuff?” John nodded, scrambling to grab her drink and bowl as she hunched over, picking up her backpack.

John slinked back to the table, Simon was smirking at him.

“You love her don’t you?”

“What?!”

He barked out a laugh. “Oh little Johnny, so dumb struck in _love_ that you’re too blind to see it! She might just like you back, you never know.”

“Yeah, yeah Simon whatever… can it!” John spat, taking a seat beside his best friend again.

She glided over to them, dropping her bag as she sat down. “Thank you for saving me from my own boredom, there.” She giggled, blushing slightly. “What happened to your foot?”

Simon addressed her, reciting all aspects of his fall. She nodded along, face growing in concern. John could only watch her, try to absorb every laughter line and scowl line; every little smile and cackle. She was stunning, there was no doubt about it.

And her voice, how it flowed so wonderfully. Hitting all those delightful accents…

“Oh crap!” He spat, interrupting the other’s conversation.

“Erm, Johnny!” Simon chuckled, turning to face him. “You alright?”

Their eyes locked. _I love her. No shit, John. What do I do now? Go after her, you moron! Oh… how?!_

Simon rolled his eyes, struggling up to standing. Clutching tight to the back of her chair: “John, Renée. Renée, John. Denmark’s finest skier, cabin owner and part time _model_. See ya, Johnny!”

“Wa-wait, Simon _what?!_ ”

Simon hopped, as fast as he could, out of there.

“Do you…” _curse that eager bastard._ “Wow. Do you _own_ this place?”

John blushed violently, her eyes were firmly on him. He couldn’t break away, no matter how hard he tried. He found himself not wanting too, there was a spotlight on her, a light drawing him to her. A moth to her vibrant flame, John didn’t drop his gaze.

“My family do, yes. This ski resort.”

“Wow.” He repeated, dumb struck in _love_ indeed. “I, I uh, I’m erm—”

“—John,” she interrupted, smiling softly. “I know. Nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/637847935705579520/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	6. A Christmas Miracle In Arrivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another personal favourite, a modern-ish meet cute at the airport AU.

Glancing up at the screen, Renée’s blonde brows furrowed. The snow storm was only getting worse, flight after flight was delayed or even cancelled. She was waiting for her best friend to return for the holidays, wondering just how much longer she would be stuck waiting in the Terminal 2 Arrivals gate.

Yasmin’s flight was delayed another two hours. She was playing Heathrow’s waiting game.

She groaned, another hoard of frustrated visitors dissipating all over the terminal. They were now scarce, hardly any bodies were around her. Renée shoved her hands into her leopard print coat, tipping her head as in search of coffee she went; feeling that she deserved a little treat.

Renée twirled around, heeled boots clinking as she went in search of food.

“Oof! Oh, crap, I’m sorry!” She ran straight into another man, who apologised over and over for knocking her purse to the floor.

“It’s alright, thank you.” Renée greeted the stranger, as he passed her back her leather purse.

They locked glances. He was smiling softly, blushing, dark brown eyes glistening. She met his smile with one of her own, before he shivered and glanced down.

“You must be freezing in that jumper.” Renée posed, motioning to the tartan sweater he wore. “Why don’t you have a coat?”

He cleared his throat. “I was waitin’ for my best mate, his plane should’ve landed by now. I’ll be here for a while.”

“You’re crazy!” She laughed, he really was stupid to think he could brave the cold. “Here, have this.”

She began slipping the leopard print coat from her shoulders, the man eyed her, weary.

“I don’t think, you don’t need too… y’know…”

“Oh hush, it’ll keep you warm.” She chuckled, helping him into her coat.

His chocolate browns lit up like a child at Christmas, opening up their first present. She couldn’t help but smirk, seeing those deft fingertips run up his own arms; a small moan escaping those pouty lips.

“You like it, don’t you?”

He threw his head up, seemingly embarrassed. Then he nodded, shamefully. Renée waved him off with a giggle.

“I don’t usually _talk_ to, or lend my coat to strangers at airports. I’ll make that clear.”

She was met by a wonderful laugh, him throwing his head back ready to slap his right knee. He probably would have, if he was sat down.

“I gathered.” He replied, eyeing her again. “Would you like too, you know, grab a coffee? Or grab dinner? There’s a _Harvester_ nearby and I’m gonna be here a while, waitin’ for my mate’s flight.”

“So will I.” Renée sighed, taking a moment to decide. Usually she wasn’t the type to just walk up to a stranger, though she had _bumped_ into this one… oh to hell with it, why not? “Dinner sounds lovely, if you will tell me your name!” Renée chuckled, motioning to the man to fess up.

“John.”

“Renée.”

They shook gloved hands, leather on wool.

Together they headed to the _Harvester,_ John striking up conversation. He seemed ever so animated, always having something to say. Even if it took him a little while to get his words out, even if he stumbled over them, he always wanted to be heard. Renée liked that, he seemed relatively easy going and open minded. Easy to get on with.

He had quick wit, a slightly dark sense of humour. There was just something about John, drawing Renée into his flame. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it yet, watching him happily gobble up his burger.

They had a wonderful couple of hours, she was laughing near non-stop, almost giving herself the hiccups. Turns out he was from Birmingham but had recently moved down south to work, he didn’t even live that far away. That was nice to know. They swapped numbers, took a couple selfies and added each other on _Snapchat_ before separating to their designated arrivals gate.

“Gate 16… really? That’s where _I’m_ headed too, you know?” John stated, a little puzzled.

Renée simply shrugged as she read the copy of the ticket John held.

Within minutes, they found themselves standing side by side, staring at the gate to await their friend’s return. It seemed strange, both of them had met and now they were waiting for friends who had been on the same flight. Very weird.

“There he is, Si!” John pointed, Renée struggling to follow his finger through the sudden crowd of passengers.

“That’s, that’s Yasmin. What is she doing with…?” Renée trailed off, a puzzled John raising a quizzical brow at her.

“What’s she doing with—”

“—Johnny!”

“Ren!”

John and Renée were hugged, tackled in John’s case, by the two. The two had strolled in, Yasmin tucked under the mystery man’s arm. Renée could only eye her, smirking, needing every juicy detail immediately.

Turns out Yasmin had been sat next to an incredibly loud, eager, slightly obnoxious but ever so charming man. For eight hours. They had gotten to talking and now, Renée noted with a grin, Yasmin seemed utterly _infatuated_ with… with…

“Ren,” Yasmin held her hand, motioning to her mystery man. “This is Simon. Simon, meet my best friend Renée. She models, too.”  
  


“ _Models?_ ” John perked up, giving her a sideways glance.

Renée leant forward, shaking the hand Simon held out to her.

“Ren, dear? Who is he and why is _he_ wearing _your_ coat?” Yasmin had only now seemed to have noticed John stood beside her, sending a meaningful glance Renée’s way.

“Or is it _his_ coat now, Pebbles?!” Simon offered, chuckling to himself.

“Oh, right. Yasmin, John. We met a couple hours ago, waiting for you. John, Yasmin.” John sensed his cue, holding a hand out for Yasmin to shake. “He was cold, he liked my coat!”

“Oh yeah, Johnny _loves_ leopard prints.”

“Shut up, Simon!” Renée laughed into her hand as John whacked him on the arm for speaking.

The four of them settled on grabbing a coffee before going their separate ways. Lucky for Yasmin, this Simon fellow also didn’t live too far away. From what Renée could tell, from his jokes to their hand holding, to her never ending laughter: they would be seeing each other again. And again.

Now, smiling at John sat across from her, clutching tight to her steaming cup of coffee; it seemed to dawn on Renée. She had to admit, it did appear rather odd that she had just _run_ into him. That together they had such time to kill so they would have dinner. Then they would be waiting for their friend’s at the _same_ gate, their friend’s would come out together hand in hand so now she and John could share mince pies.

“A Christmas miracle, eh?” John randomly blurted, eyes firmly lost in Renée’s blues. As if he had read her mind.

She shrugged. “Perhaps.”

John inched a hand across the table, she noted with a hasty raise of her brows. Blushing, awfully hiding it as she took a sip of coffee, she placed her right hand down to intertwine with John’s left.

She smiled to herself, how wonderful a wintry night this had turned out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they’re both wearing the infamous leopard print coat. You know the one.
> 
> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/637944818164711424/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	7. Putting The ‘Angel’ Atop The Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon! Takes place in New York, December 1985.

Reaching a hand out, John sighed as the fir tickled his fingertips. He had never picked out a live Christmas tree before, he simply didn’t see much need for it. Besides, they weren’t a big deal in England but here they were all the rage. So John figured, another way to Americanise himself and his apartment this year, he may as well look for one at least.

He had lost sight of Renée a few moments ago. She had slipped away, also thoroughly confused with which tree would fit wonderfully at The Waldorf. That and, John had reassured her, whether those at The Waldorf would even allow them to bring in a real tree. She had her doubts but went along with his scheme, wanting to see him happy.

Though it hadn’t escaped Renée’s notice, she was convinced that John wanted to do this for her; knowing these real trees were much more of a sight back home. She always felt a little blue around Christmas, with her family so many thousands of miles away. Renée was sure John wanted to bring her another little glimpse of home, in his own special way with this Christmas tree.

Finding her in the crowd, John tugged her check jacket to guide Renée over to the tree. John was sure this was the one. Renée took a single glance, it was fairly big but she was sure; they could do better.

Shaking her head, she thread her fingertips with John’s and led him to the tree she had been looking at. It was much larger, standing proud and elegant. Unfortunately, John shook his head. They passed.

Together the couple surveyed tree after tree, no fir tickling their fancies as such. Whenever John found one that he thought might just be the one, Renée was quick to shake her head. And John, if Renée pointed, he waved her off with a pout.

A little worn out, beaten down, Renée tried again. Another fir was calling to her, from right in the midst of the tree farm. Beckoning John over, she explained what she saw in this tree; how she saw it brightening up their apartment, when decorated with glossy ribbons and gleaming baubles.

Again, John shook his head.

With a sigh, the two took some time out to discuss it. Renée could tell, no matter how tired John said he wasn’t, he just wasn’t feeling the Christmas cheer. Maybe they both needed to order a fake tree, one that would suit both pallets, and decorate it together. Their apartment was very modern, chic, with black slick furniture and a dashing view over New York City.

A real tree just wouldn’t look right, plonked there.

Perhaps a grand, luxurious giant tree would suit them. Situated right in the foyer, welcoming guests into their posh, humble abode. Renée asked him, smiling as he agreed.

After all that, a trip to the shopping centre was in order. John and Renée in search of the largest, most beautiful faux Christmas tree they could find.

***  
  


Faced with so many torn open boxes and bags, glitter, sequins and stardust; Renée’s heart felt warm. She hadn’t seen John so happy in months, he was positively glowing. Laughing, hopping over bags of baubles. Giggling, retrieving ornaments and ogling over the glittery trail they left behind on his fingertips. Fairy dust in his palm.

Renée was clutching tight to a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Watching him so fondly, John was practically dancing around the Christmas tree as he wove the golden fairy lights through the fir. She took a step back to marvel over the scene, having both bought The Waldorf alight with Christmas cheer.

Renée knew he was hurting. 1985 had only bought hardship, straining friendships, separation and failure. Loneliness. His heart was cracking, unable to be patched up by anyone. Renée was sure, even though she had only been a part of his life for a few months; that his band was over. Finished, kaputt. That they wouldn’t be working out whatever had gone so wrong.

On some level, she was certain that he still didn’t know that. She couldn’t protect him from his wounded self, John would keep trying to mend his wounded pride by wanting to keep his band going. By wanting his name still glowing in those flashing neon lights.

He should’ve flown back home for Christmas. He should be with his parents, not holed away here in his ivory tower. Renée couldn’t go home because of her work, her schedule didn’t allow it. She too was distraught, always missing her parents and sisters dearly around the holidays. Feeling ever so blue.  
  


So now, watching John tip toe over the discarded boxes of decorations to scurry in beside her, Renée couldn’t help but smile softly. John was finally finding himself again, grinning with glee. There was an innocence about him, a purity… almost. Neither knew what that new year would ring in though right here, right now, John wrapping an arm around her waist – Renée let out a pleased sigh. She didn’t need to know.

Glistening eyes roaming over their tree, dashing silver and blue baubles, their mock fire place decorated with little trinkets and two stockings, the twin glittery reindeers atop of the coffee table… Renée frowned. Something was missing, the finishing touch.

John stepped in behind her, placing her mug aside. He bought his huge hands around her middle, leaning down to rest his chin atop of her shoulder. Peppering her cheek in soft kisses, Renée’s giggles filling the air, John clutched her tighter. She knew, hands coming to rest atop of his; that he wouldn’t be letting her, his angel, fly away any time soon.

“Min snuskebasse, you forgot.”

Renée’s _teddy bear_ slipped his arms from her side, letting her fall from her grip. Renée twirled around, placing both hands on John’s chest to stabilise herself; to keep him from running away.

“The tree. What goes on top?” Renée motioned to the beautifully crafted masterpiece of a tree, ever so close to perfection.

Turning back to John, she noted the quizzical look on his face.

“A star, an angel?” She prompted, leaning in to lightly kiss John’s puffy cheek.

Though he seemed detached a moment, John shook his head and bought his darkened gaze down to her. Renée wondered, if he was really still there.

“An angel.” John confirmed, bending down to scoop her up. Chuckling softly, he had her in a bridal carry, laughing hysterically as hr cautiously waddled through the abandoned bags and boxes of used ornaments and headed to the tree.

If John could reach the top of the grand tree without a step ladder, Renée was almost certain that he would try to ‘place’ her atop of the tree. His guiding light, his guiding hand; his guardian angel here to save him from himself yet again. Spreading her warmth, Renée’s Christmas cheer.

The heated look roaming over the desire in her face, told Renée that was exactly what John was thinking. Clutching tight to him, fingertips splayed around his neck, John took her on a dip to paw through the final case. A rich gold one, unveiling a shimmering silver angel to top their twinkling tree. John put her down then handed her the angel, motioning to the step ladder.

Renée ascended, waggling her butt ever so teasingly to elicit a small chuckle from John, keeping his spirits up. Head held high, perched on the final step, Renée leant a toned arm out with the angel dangling so effortlessly from her deft fingertips. Leaning further forward, she placed the sparkling ornament atop of their silver spectacular of a tree. John gave her the thumbs up, Renée confirmed it with a bright smile before stepping back down.

Now standing beside John again, snaking her hand around her _snuskesbasse,_ her teddy bear, she admired her handiwork. The glimmer in John’s darkened eyes telling her, not only had his angel saved his Christmas: she had saved _him_. Well and truly, Renée was the greatest gift John could have wished for this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/638036327485554688/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	8. Ten Second Head Start... Go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon! An eighties AU, snowball fights in 1986 Denmark are more ruthless than ones in England.

With a dashing smile, Renée placed the stripy red knit scarf around John’s shoulders. Leaning in to kiss her nose, John let his hands settle on her waist; then pressing softly into the grooves of her cut hips. She giggled, dropping her gaze before stepping back.

“Ten second head start, run!” Renée chuckled, eyeing him with glee.

Laughing manic, John span about, planning his escape. The thick Danish snow crunched under his boots as he tried to sprint, taking three steps with a cry.

“What the?... Ren, the hell is…”

John’s left foot was stuck, having been swallowed by the chunky white. The blanket was unlike anything he had ever seen, thicker than anything he had ever stepped in. John struggled, laughing as the wet began to seep through his trousers, close to toppling over.

“Ren? Ren, help!”

She was standing behind him, smirking mischievously. Crouching down, her gloved fingertips began to pick up the snow; rounding the mounds into a ball.

“Ren, shit, I’m stuck!” John struggled further, falling forward; hands sinking straight into the plush. Ass in the air. “Christ!”

“It’s thicker than it looks, isn’t it?”

“Ren?” John couldn’t see her, though the faint crunch of the snow under her boots blared through his mind.

“That’s why you have to be cautious. Small steps, light steps. Don’t run.”  
  


“Don’t run? Y’know _you_ told me to get a head start?!”

Chuckling, “that I did.”

“Why did you…” John’s voice trailed off, forcing himself back to standing. “Oh crap, no, no!”

When Renée had managed to roll that many snow balls, John had no idea.

He was being pelted with ball after ball, failing miserably at fighting back. Though he struggled, wading about in the snow; finally he slipped his foot free and fell knees first into the white. Laughing maniacally as Renée continued to pelt him with snow.

“Cut it out, cut it ow- _wout!”_ John yelped, trying to grasp at her legs.

She laughed harder, rolling another ball. Tossing it straight into his stomach, John cried out as it hit him with mild force; breaths turning ragged. Still laughing, “are you, John, are you alright?”

John sensed his moment; hand on his stomach as he was more than a little winded from the attack. “Yeah, y’know I will be. When I get ya!”

John pranced forward like a jungle cat, sending a shrieking Renée straight to the ground. Falling atop of her, they rolled about in the snow; silver flakes glistening in her golden hair. Little white mounds painting their clothes, an adorable yet frosty blush lighting up her cheeks. Renée fought back, kicking out from underneath him to roll atop of John and pin him, near breathless as his gloved hands descended down on her form. Tickling her, bringing her down for a snowy kiss.

Renée’s lips met John’s chattering own briefly; before helping to pull him up. Together they dusted each other off as best as they could, John shivering as Renée’s fingertips thread themselves through his ruined hair. “That was… was…” she panted; reeling John in closer by the scarf.

“Wonderful. I’m freakin’ freezing, luv.”

“I did say to put on another layer! You don’t understand it here, it’s a bitter chill unlike anything you’ll ever know.”

Cocking his head, John surveyed her. She was glistening against their stunning backdrop, radiating heat.

“Another round? Maybe I can actually—” John swept up a hoard of snow, lobbing it her way, “y’know, _throw_ somethin’ this time!”

“Oh,” Renée crouched down, rolling a ball of fluffy mush. “You are on!”

“Ten second head start?” John grinned, cheeks a deep shade of ruby to match his nose. “Go!”

Renée dashed away, somehow floating on the soft cloud. John tried to chase her, failing miserably, stumbling through the thick snow: Renée’s vibrant silhouette blurring from his sights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/638126392018599936/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	9. His Cutie Pie With The Big Pink Bow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring kid fic, they’re babs in 1965. Nigel is five, pretend Renée and Yasmin are four and Simon is six.

With glee, little Nigel trot his way through the grotto, blinded by the twinkling lights and mesmerised by the endless toys that circled the carousel. He and a small group of friends were having their tour, he found himself skipping along beside the lady elf with the big beaming smile; asking lots of questions and getting lots of laughs from the other little boys and girls. They too, much like himself, couldn’t wait to see Santa and sit on his lap! He had a small list of gifts that he would like this year, nothing much, but the five year old really did have one special wish.

He really wanted a kiss from the cutie pie with the big pink bow in her hair, from his class at school.

So, Nigel had been ever so shy and scurried up to the lady elf’s side when he had noticed, there she was with her best friend. Hand in hand, the blonde and brunette were giggling non stop as they saw toy after toy rolling down the conveyor belt. As they got their hot chocolate and the brunette gave herself a tiny stache, and now with Nigel and the rest of the group: giggling before Santa’s grotto. Ready to meet him, Nigel stopped dead in his tracks.

He gulped, a large frown painting his teeny lips. Growing more shy, he slunk his way through the line, kicking at his heels and hands behind his back. The baby blue collar on his shirt had a small hot chocolate stain on it from a wayward marshmallow, he really hoped his cutie pie with the big pink bow wouldn’t see his mess.

He watched as her best friend had caught the eye of one of his friends from school. Simon had been drawing hearts round her name at the back of his books for some time now, even though he was only six; Simon really knew who he wanted for Christmas this year. Nigel would laugh, now he had learnt how to spell his cutie pie with the big pink bow’s name (and do that funny little line above the ‘e’) because he was doing the same. With his markers, he would draw them together hand in hand, playing in the snow.

“Wot?!” Nigel barked, having been shaken from his daydream.

The lady elf was back, crouching before him. His gaze dropped to his feet, he was swaying slightly. She bought a soft hand to his side and round to his chin, helping him to raise his head.

“Did your pal leave you?” She chimed in sorrow as Nigel nodded, pointing the way that Simon had left. “Oh, I’m sorry! Come dear, you must see Father Christmas. It’s your turn!”

After a moment of thought, Nigel shook his blonde hair from his face and nodded. There were little red blotches forming on his cheeks as he took her hand, taking big boy steps into the grotto. Right to Santa, stuttering over his Christmas list.

His cutie pie with the big pink bow was now behind him in line. Simon had bounced over and taken her friend Yasmin back into the grotto, now she was on her own. Before walking inside, Nigel noted her sadness. The little pout forming on her bottom lip, her crystal blue eyes growing watery.

“Stop.” He stated, tugging the lady elf down to meet him.

“What is wrong, duckie?”

Nigel cast a glance over to her, her pink bow was drooping into her eyes as she slumped. He shook his head, biting back a small tear. Then he was running, as fast as his little legs could carry him, to take all those steps over to her; place her hand in his and bringing her over. Surprisingly, a huge smile crossed her pinky lips. Nigel could only smile back, sheepishly waving, as she began to follow him.

Together, hand in hand with his cute pie, Nigel pointed to her drooping bow. The lady elf chuckled, crouching down to help the little girl straighten it out. Now Nigel could see her face fully, the bright glow in her eyes, the blush in her cheeks. She was wearing a spotty black and white dress under a red cardigan with bells and baubles stitched onto it. Nigel loved it, clutching tighter to her hand.

Together they skipped through those golden doors; both gasping as they saw him sitting there. Ready to shake his belly like a bowl full of jelly, the man rose to standing and held out his hands. Together, they sprinted into Santa’s arms. Together, they clambered up into his lap.

Nigel was a little gentleman, kicking his legs about, knowing that girls should go first.

“What would you like for Christmas, dear Renée?” Santa asked, tapping her button nose as she giggled shyly.

“Ummm…” she trailed off, looking at a cheeky Nigel sat beside her; another huge smile crossing his face. “ _This!”_ She closed the gap, kissing him quick on the cheek. Breaking away, she was blushing, worried eyes on Nigel’s face.

Santa chuckled merrily behind them, Nigel had almost forgotten he was there. His shielded eyes hadn’t left his cutie pie, Renée, and her big pink bow.

He hadn’t realised that Santa hadn’t yet asked him, Nigel voiced just _who_ he wanted for Christmas and held out his arms. Renée was quick to scurry into them, placing another hearty kiss to his right cheek. Nigel’s heart leapt in his chest, small cackles dropping merrily from his lips as he hugged her tight.

Atop of Santa’s lap, his Christmas wishes were coming true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ren’s Look is loosely inspired by her ‘85 editorial ‘hats & gloves are hot!’ You know the one, with the massive crooked fuschia bow and spotty white gloves.
> 
> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/638210191871098880/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	10. The Gift Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An eighties ‘you work in the toy shop and I need present ideas’ AU.

After queuing for what may have literally been hours, finally John was at the front of the queue. He knew he should’ve listened to Nick, not waited till the very last minute to hunt down presents for all his best friend’s child. He hadn’t really waited, nor forgotten but John really hadn’t a clue what to get her.

And besides, Tatjana was barely one and a half. Wouldn’t a cuddly toy do? What does one get a baby girl who is cherished by her uncle so dearly, loving her to death as though she was his own? John was truly stumped.

Fighting his way through crazed aisle after crazed aisle of the infamous Entertainer, John was knocking into toys and other frantic shoppers left right and centre. Muttering his apologies, he and this other woman helped to stack the teddy bears he had tumbled into; cheeks flaming in embarrassment and eyes clouded with fear.

He bid farewell to the woman and shucked aside. The further into the toy extravaganza he managed, the more claustrophobic he became. Bodies were everywhere, kids were crying and parents yelling at each other over what to buy. John sighed, he really did _not_ want to be tied down with a child anytime soon.

Slinking around another crowded corner, finally he had found someone who worked in the joint. She was turned away from him, seemingly lost in her own world as she re-stocked the _My Little Pony_ shelves of pink fluffiness and cheer.

“Erm, excuse me, miss?” John tapped her shoulder, she swung about to face him.

She blinked a couple of times, glistening blue gaze fixing onto John. She bat her lashes, smiling softly. She momentarily adjusted her slick thick black frames, nodding.

“I really dunno what to get my niece, she’s only one. Any ideas?” He stuttered, not quite able to hold her gaze.  
  


She motioned forward, beckoning him to follow her. With every step she took, apologising as the two tangoed their way through the ever crowded store, the bell on her elf hat jingled. John found great comfort in that tiny, tinkly sound. Knowing that she couldn’t get too far from him, getting lost in the crowd.

She simply motioned to the aisle of toys tailored to Tatjana’s age. Both high and low end ranged toys, cuddly toys and contraptions alike. John was puzzled, faced with pink fluff and glitter. Noting his confusion, she rolled her eyes with a soft chuckle; before wading her way through the thankfully less crowded aisle.

Together they walked, John’s gaze firmly on her silhouette, as she pointed out what she thought Tatjana may just love for Christmas. John listened ever so carefully, taking in her smooth voice. She appeared ever so excited to have even been approached by him, John noted with a small beam of pride. Together they browsed, John picking out toy after toy and her simple raise of a brow or pout telling him to _try again, you can do better._ John grinned, placing back a Fluppy Dog in favour of a Strawberry Shortcake doll. Though John did figure this was a little too cutesy for Nick’s tastes, Tatjana was sure to love it.

She nodded, a bright smile painting her fresh face. John found himself leaning in to thank her, bending down ever so slightly so his voice could delicately brush the snowflakes dangling from her ears. He was blushing, unsure of what to say.

Beginning a nervous retreat, he cast a glance down to her chest; in search of a name tag. Wondering why he hadn’t done so before, he momentarily studied her name, liking how it sounded as the delicate tone rolled off of his pinky lips.

“Thank you for your time, Renée.”

Her smile never fell, instead she was glowing brighter. John watched as her topaz gaze fell to the doll he was clutching, chuckling softly to himself.

“I’m sure Tatji will love it, ‘eh? And if she doesn’t,” John paused to bring the doll close to his chest, ruby locks painting his torso, “I might just ‘ave to keep her, y’know?!”

He was awarded Renée’s hearty laughter, immediately relaxing him. John couldn’t help but flush deeper. “I’m sure she will. Is there anything else I can help you out with today, any more presents?” Her voice was chirpy, even if those words did alarm him somewhat.

She had a job to do and surely he had taken up enough of her precious time… though, John cocked a brow, _that gift for Andy Jr ain’t gonna buy itself!_

“Oh wait, miss!” He almost didn’t see her twirl around on her heel; ready to get back to work. “Actually… yeah I, you know, I do…”

Renée paused mid-stride, tossing a cheeky glance back John’s way. With a small smirk in place, she beckoned John to describe this other child he suddenly needed help buying for. He did, albeit vaguely, hoping for her expertise. John was determined to draw out this moment, in her presence, as the gift angel helped him to select perfect toy after toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to tumblr moodboard:  
> https://duranarchy-in-the-uk.tumblr.com/post/638306621790027777/christmas-is-the-time-to-say-i-love-you


	11. Sleep In Heavenly Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon! Very early Christmas morning, 1986.

_Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,  
_ _Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse._  
_The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,_  
_In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there._

_***_

Glistening aquamarine eyes flickering open, there was a frown as she felt about the bed. Empty. Slowly rising to seated, Renée grasped tighter at the sheets. She rubbed at her eyes with a deep yawn, doused in the midnight; ever so lonely. Slipping herself free from her silken cocoon; she enveloped her shivering frame in her woven cream dressing gown. Turning, she caught a faint light prying at the door. It was ajar, ever so slightly open. Pupils broadening, she peeled open the door to unveil the blackened corridor. Illuminated only by a soft flicker of light, drawing her to it.

Her steps pitter-pattered down the corridor, down the stairway, trying not to trip as she basked in the darkness. She crept further down, catching sight of a rich golden glow. The Christmas tree lights were on, which was strange as it was surely well past two. Renée cocked her head as she pondered her next move, creeping around the final corner. From the ledge, she had perfect sight of the inky black which coated their grand living room.

The golden glow was burning brighter, illuminating the tree and the decorations that did surround it. Renée couldn’t hide her smile, stifling a giggle in her palm, as the shadow appeared. Not quite on her side. Her glistening topaz eyes were wide, transfixed, as they made a small ruckus; hopping between the presents that were laid and the new ones they were putting down. They dropped one, cursing, before bumping straight into the artful clutter. Renée couldn’t quite hide that giggle, watching the scene develop before her.

The shadow was moving again, they had a sack beside them. In a hand slipped, retrieving a small champagne box with a striking ruby bow. They paved way for this gift, brushing other majestic boxes Renée had wrapped and carefully placed beneath the tree before bed. She squealed as they retrieved another, gasping as another and another were seemingly interwoven into the shot. Each present was beautifully wrapped with a luxe, effervescent sheen glinting. Some were larger than others, some were smaller. Though every present appeared to shine in their own spotlight.

Renée couldn’t help but feel warm, feeling her heart swelling in her chest. They had cast their golden sparkle onto all of her blue and silver gifts, spreading their Christmas cheer. By now she was clutching tight to the staircase, leaning up against the bannister on the bottom step. She hadn’t been seen, nor heard. By now they weren’t even stirring, only a small pant could be heard, admiring the decoration all around them.

They took a seat, falling into their leather sofa with a small squeak. Chuckling softly, Renée’s beady eyes landed back on the bobble hat they wore, as they reached forward to the plate of her homemade biscuits that had been set out for the night. They were an old favourite from back home, a recipe that she had memorised at age eight. Her biscuits never failed to disappoint, when washed down with a fresh glass of milk.

Her eyes were covered with love, a soft glow was radiating from her as her gaze followed those fingertips, clasped around the half empty glass. Placing her hands in her pockets, she shivered as she tried to cling to the warm glow bought about by the shadow before her. They were almost out of sight, blissed out on the merriment. Having snuck down their endless gifts, spreading their love and joy for Renée. For their angel.

Smiling to herself, Renée began the ascend back to their bedroom; creeping up step by step. The tree lights continued to flicker and their was a light snore stopping her in her tracks. With a knowing grin, Renée cast a glance down over the white bannister, embracing them melting into their sofa pillows. Momentarily she debated whether to wake them up and guide them back to their bed, needing her _snucksebasse_ to snuggle in tight with but; Renée reminded herself, that she wasn’t meant to see. See them. See them smile.

She continued taking step by step; ever so quiet. Renée let the warmth in her heart lead her back to the bed, removing her gown and slippers, before falling into the covers so she was bundled up tight. Now glancing at the blackened ceiling, the crystal chandelier above their bed, she couldn’t help but anticipate their return to her. To keep her warm, to awake on Christmas morning in John’s strong hold.


	12. That’s All I Want, When Christmas Comes To Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John narrates his way through his perfect Christmas. His perfect _life. ___  
>  _  
>  _I also recommend hearing ‘When Christmas Comes To Town’ from The Polar Express about halfway through this story, you’ll see why. 🥰_  
> _

Resting up against the headboard, I cast a glance down to watch you. Your golden hair is rumpled, locks cascading over to hide the smile on your face. I know you’re smiling, I know when you’re tense and when you relax in your dreams; I know when I’m in them too, when you’re wanting me close. Your fringe has fallen into your eyes, your long lashes flicker as your irises move in their sockets as you dream. You’re ever so peaceful, ever so serene.

Turning to the side I note the time, we don’t have to be up yet. The moon is watching over us both, that I know. Though you’re known to be up early, raring to go for work and I’m known to stay up late and sleep in. How wonderfully well we work.

A small sigh, you’re dreaming again. I can tell by the cock of your lips, how you press your hand into the pillows and how the small beam of moonlight casts its pearly glow over your face. You’re ever so at peace, sleeping softly. I don’t quite want to move yet, I don’t want to wake you. So I watch, finding the real life in my illusion; living out a dream of my own with my eyes wide open. _I’m wishing on a star, and trying to believe..._

Together we gather at the foot of the tree, your face lights up in joy as you tear through your presents. I hope I’ve got it right this year. I like to think that I know you like the back of my hand, though what can I buy a supermodel who already has the world at her feet? The world within reach?

You don’t want possessions, you don’t want treats. You want _love_. You deserve so much.

As the years progress we’ll move again, celebrating the holidays in your country. Perhaps I’ll even try camping again… yeah, right. You know I couldn’t last another night out there, I missed the loo roll more than ever! Anyways, I digress. We’ll buy a house, a lavish joint I’d say. Something where you can have all the wardrobe space, the shoe and bag closets you want and I can have my guitars hanging from the ceiling. The latest tech, another hi-fi system; we’ll wake the whole street by my strumming. By your voice flowing with mine. Your shameless love for festive songs, the whole street will come to adore it. I’ll make them. I’ll soundproof the place.

You’ll come and go, as you’ll only continue to book work. Everybody wants you for Christmas, wrapped with a bright pink bow under the tree. But hah, they can’t. You’re mine, you’re absolutely mine…

I see us snuggled up tight during the frosty mornings. Me blithering on about never being warm and you’ll mutter the exact same Danish thing that has me questioning how to ever survive a single Danish winter. You’ll roll atop of me, press me down into the mattress and warm my cold heart with your lips. With your touches, your kisses, your golden ray of light.

By now, we’re sat beside the tree pawing through gift after gift. Extravagance after extravagance, you only deserve the best. Though, there’s something different about you. Your smile. Your glow. I know that glow better than anyone and yet this… Christ, this is new. You’ll crawl over to me, not needing to open another gift.

You’ll hand me your gift. Our gift. With a sprig of holly for good measure, you’ll provide me my gift.

Our life blossoming inside you.

And then we’ll be sitting beneath the tree, I’m staring deeply at the new bauble you insisted on buying. In a dashing baby blue, though this ornament doesn’t match the gold you wanted in ’85. This baby blue perfectly brings out the gold and the red. It’s everything I could ask for and more, shining right in the centre of the tree. Right at the front where everyone can see.

A merry little giggling fit from little _last time la Leo_ (named aptly after everyone’s favourite lion) brings me out of it. You’re sitting cross legged, bobbing him softly on your knee. He’s clapping, he’s singing, squirming all over the shop. Funnily enough he’s lost in the wrapping paper not any of the toys we bought him, that and the fairy lights. I love him dearly, more than life itself. He’s precious, he’s everything to me, _you’re_ everything to me.

You’ll give me the greatest gift; I know you will.

You mentioned once about wanting a winter wedding. Well, let me and Leo grant you that wish.

Another Christmas or two and another miracle. You’ll be winded, bumbling around as we wait and wait. I’ll again get lost in that special baby blue bauble dangling from the tree, and even more so with the new little pink one you bought. Adding more light, more life, into our world.

She’s beautiful, just like her mother. Absolutely stunning, she can do no wrong.

We’ll sit at the dinner table, dining on your favourite. The butterscotch tart, like your mother always makes. It’ll forever pain you how you never could quite get yours the same, and you’ll always wave me off when I say yours is the best. You’ve had that recipe nailed since you were nineteen, I know our Wild Boy and Rio Girl will say so too. Or two. Two Rio Girls, twins. That’s it, we’ll have _twins_. Both with beautiful Danish names that I’ll struggle to pronounce. I’ll get better though, I promise! For sure the way you pronounce them will always give me chills, I know it.

Together, they’ll sit up straight, ever so grown up at the table with my parents. Jean will have Sofia in one hand and Krista in the other; babbling to her luvvies as they chat about nursery, toys, and the boys. Then they’ll cuddle with your parents, too. Heidi will be a wonderful Aunt, I’m sure. Their crystal blue eyes shimmer bright when locked onto your gleaming face, as you giggle with glee, celebrating another year of us. Of all of us.

We’ll send them to bed, one glass of milk in, dressed in their favourite reindeer pyjamas. I’ll hang up the Santa costume for another year. And besides, they’re not old enough to ask ‘why is mummy kissing Santa Claus?’ yet, are they? You’ll do far more to Santa Claus won’t you?! You better.

The years will progress and we’ll drift apart. Reunite. Apart. Unite. Just like in the early days of me chasing you. Calling you, scouting the world, for the finest Denmark had to offer. The most delightful daisy the country could grow. Could nurture, could thrive. Though daisies aren’t very festive, are they? Again, I’m spiralling off into a tangent. You know Christmas is where I’m concerned.

We’ll do all the nativity’s and concerts, if my concert schedule will allow. We’ll go through many highs and lows of buying gifts, of leaving out a carrot and your homemade all butter biscuits… they’ll find out it was us two all along and hate us! Oh well, that’s a part of the magic. We’ll never stop filling their stockings.

Now he’s off to university, I’m surely growing grey. The band… well, I doubt I’ll have much of a band by this point; we’ll all age disgracefully and right in the public eye. Maybe a reunion is on the cards? Will we still even have the chops? I’m not sure. But that doesn’t matter, I won’t know till it happens. More importantly, they won’t be calling me ‘daddy’ anymore. ‘Dad’ or ‘pop’ or maybe even ‘father.’ Crikey, that’ll be the day. Running up to me with stockings in hand, presents falling out all over, needing help opening every gift. Needing help picking out the right present for mummy and wrapping it… no more.

When Leo gets you a silken dressing gown to entertain me in, I’ll know I’ve taught him well. Just you wait!

The girls will look just like you, they all will: true diamonds. With sapphire eyes and pouty lips. They’ll be the most beautiful women the world could ask for; after you of course. With flowing long blonde hair that’ll fade to brown over time like mine did. He too will have my hair, your eyes, my nose and your lips. Always your lips. My jawline… Gosh. He’ll come home for Christmas with his new girlfriend, clutching her tight and I’ll be off rocking in my chair, complaining… you’ll be in the kitchen with the butterscotch.

You’ll tell him that there are no women good enough for him. I’ll agree, you’re the best woman for him. The only one.

Leo’ll propose. We’ll be grandparents.

You’ll be singing Christmas carols. I’ll be playing bass. You’ll sit with our grandchild right beside the tree, watching in awe as I add another bauble for them; right beside our three beauties. They’ll be lost in the lights, wanting to grasp them; you’ll hold our grandchild high so they can touch the star. Can touch the sky, with you and I.

“… John?”

When shall we renew the vows then? Twenty five years sound alright? A little less?

We’ll be sat together side by side. A washed up bassist and a former supermodel who never lost her smile. The _face of the eighties_ who’s aged with such grace and poise, turquoise eyes still sparkling: who no model could ever touch. Could ever rival. We’ll both have the wrinkles, flab, things will sag… Lord, the greying hair! Though you’ll always look ravishing, you know? I can assure you that.

“John?”  
  


We’ll continue to sit before the tree, presents for the children all around. There will be years when Krista will come home and years where Sofia can’t, then years when Sofia will come home and Leo can’t… whatever, we’ll make it work. Perhaps we’ll be seeing them on screen by then? Talking to them and watching them in real time, too. Or, he’ll be playing guitar with me in another country. Performing for you, like he did when he was in school.

“… John? Are you… hello?”

So many presents for the grandchildren too, I’ll never not splash out. They deserve the best (might aswell start them early on bass!) as do you and our family.

You’ll give me that gift. I’ll give you that ring.

“Merry Christmas, min snucksebasse.”

You’ll give me, your teddy bear, the greatest gift. Your love and support. You’ll continue to make me the happiest man alive, I can never let you go. I’d be foolish enough to even think it.

Don’t worry, babe, I’m not thinking it.

Turning back, I really must’ve been in a trance. Now you’re awake and sat up beside me, a faint glaze coating your gaze and you’re brushing down your rumpled bed hair. There isn’t a single strand out of place, you know. You bring the sheets up higher to frame us both, and now you’re staring at me intently… damn, I forgot to answer. I’m just so caught up in your beauty that I—

“Johnny, dear…” You say, dainty fingertips clasping around our favourite stuffed lion. You begin to waggle Leonard in my face, I’m chuckling now, about to pounce on you for him. Don’t tease me with him, give me him! “Is everything alright?”

Of course it is. You make it alright.

Leaning in, grasping hold of Leonard, I boop his nose with yours and you reward me with a little chuckle. I softly press my lips to yours to show you I’m alright. In a daze, sure, but I’m more than alright. I’ve been ‘alright’ for a while now, you know?

“Shall we…” Your voice trails off in my ear, I’m lost in your beauty once again.

Together we rise from the bed, shivering as the cold sweeps over us and we brave the chill. Together we run down the stairs and head straight to the tree, hand in hand, your lips meeting mine. I really hope you love those diamond earrings, I hope they’re special enough for you.

I’ll never forget the joy in your eyes when they lock with mine. Your jaw slack, gaze wide, gushing over those diamonds. You’re perfect, almost squealing over your gift. Over the Turkey at Simon and Yasmin’s place, over the extra glass of wine you absolutely should not have touched! Though, I wouldn’t change a thing Renée.

“Merry Christmas, John.” You whisper, snuggled up tight to me on the sofa. My bleary gaze catches the fire burning longingly before us, surely you’re falling deep into another dream. Your hand is pressed right up against my heart, do you feel it beating? Can you hear it?

I know I can feel it. Beating for you, only you.

_Merry Christmas luvvie,_ I can’t wait to wake up to many more Christmases with you, Renée, by my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, another year over.
> 
> Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate, may your day be merry and bright. Please, celebrate safely. Thank you for a wonderful fic year of love and support, I hope I managed to deliver!! Here’s to a more positive, more assuring 2021: just know I’ll be here with more Duran AU’s waiting to get the green light. Tash x 🎄♥️


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